


The First Wife

by modernKhione



Series: salva me, fons pietatus [4]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dreams, F/M, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24612190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernKhione/pseuds/modernKhione
Summary: Where were you...? Oh, right. You were his first wife.(A completely self-indulgent thing about a vaguely-defined reader being the reincarnation of one of Solomon's wives.)
Relationships: Main Character/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Series: salva me, fons pietatus [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777036
Comments: 15
Kudos: 162





	The First Wife

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation for this. Sometimes my brain throws ideas at me and I get attached to them. Also I blame the manga Red River/Anatolia Story for making me romanticize a relationship with an anime version of an Ancient Near Eastern king.
> 
> Set in the same universe as the other fic in this series but works as a standalone.
> 
> Unedited/proofread, let me know if you find any errors.

Where were you again? Oh, yes…

You were the first wife. He had many more later, of course, and you were left unnamed in the history books, but you were his first, and that counted for something, still, even for one like him.

The two of you were married at the earliest possible date—he was just turned fifteen and already a king, you sixteen and already having lost a betrothed to war. That was fairly common in those days; cities and states were always tense with untapped energy, ready to expand, ready to create and become empire, lest they be swallowed by the ambitions of others. Your marriage was meant to confirm a new trade relationship with a far-flung region, rich in jewels and precious stones…and an offer of peace between former enemies. Your peoples had some bad blood between them, hurts nursed over centuries by that point, and you were not expected to be well liked in your new husband’s court. And indeed you were not.

But you were _his_ first wife, there before he fully matured into the wise king known to posterity. You were there when he was fifteen and still absent of any infernal influence, still held peerless not only among those his age, but among his elders as well. He was set apart, almost venerated, and his person was impenetrable.

But not to you.

What a surprise it was! The court was cold to you, but your nights with him were warmer than the sun-parched earth outside your new city. In each other you found at last the same insatiable curiosity, a love of learning so deep it sought to surpass the bounds of all human ability. Your conversations were exciting and stimulating, and you shared a regard for the world that encompassed much more than just your own peoples. The world was vast, but it was malleable when the two of you put your minds together. And you were both of you no longer alone.

Where before you had been rebuffed for your unseemly pursuits, you were now encouraged by the very man others had warned would be unappreciative of your mind. It was, for a time, as close as you dared believe you would get to paradise on Earth.

He even took counsel from you, as seriously as he took his actual council, and together you made his kingdom prosper beyond all expectations. He could not, of course, reveal your influence—but his regard and his regard alone was enough to heal some of the wounds which neglect and dismissal had inflicted on you.

Soon, however, the court whispered of you in yet darker tones: you were still without child. The both of you were aware of the necessity. You urged him then to marry another despite your own desires. He, of course, found no difficulty in attracting another wife. (Though his seeking your assent at all was a mark of his love and respect for you.) But he found it easy to fall for another, much easier than you had hoped, and soon your nights were spent alone again, for a time at least. Yet despite this turn of events—or perhaps because of it—you somehow, finally, found yourself with child. You were both elated, though the court was again awash with gossip. But you and he had both agreed: only the most capable child would inherit his throne, not the most favored. And having seen the struggles of kingship first-hand, you were not so certain you would want such an ordeal for your own child to go through, at any rate. Others would never have understood this though, not in those times; and it was also a sign of your faith in him and his ability to be fair and just.

Then your health deteriorated.

You lost weight.

Your body was wracked with pain.

And your powerful, wise husband could find no cure for your ailment, no method to alleviate your suffering. Save, perhaps, the only solution you would never accept.

He was distraught, as close as any had ever seen him be. You began to write letters, words of hope and advice for the future in which you suspected you had no place. And yes, you did cry, when you found a spare moment alone. You were still human, still young. You were only twenty-three.

And then came the day you bore him a son—and the day he lost you both. He was also young, younger than you, and you had been his first of so many things. No amount of sagely wisdom could extinguish the anguish in his heart. And though he found love with his other wives afterwards, he never again quite found another peer such as you. It was his first personal tragedy, one which he had not expected, nor had the power to fix.

And you—well, then you woke up.

You rubbed your eyes, still blurry from sleep, and found yourself in your room in the Devildom. That was right—you were one of the human exchange students sent to this demon realm for the year. And what you had just experienced was a very bizarre, very detailed dream, it seemed. It was a familiar dream to you, though you could not recall having had one quite like it before—though you _had_ been dreaming of your death lately, in many shapes and forms. It was often tragic, and you were always twenty-three in the dreams, though you were now twenty-four.

You frowned, thinking back to the details, now slipping away like water through your fingers. Someone in the dream had been important; perhaps you recognized him? But no. You shook your head. You could not waste any more time, or you would be getting an earful from Lucifer. And that was something you wanted to avoid at all costs; nobody you had ever met before gave lectures quite as awful as he did.

You clambered out of your bed and went to get ready for the day, which promised another lamp-lit session of school in Hell.

But during your first period you finally figured it out.

“Holy shit,” you breathed—but demonic hearing far surpassed yours, and all heads swiveled in your direction.

“Yes? What would our esteemed human guest like to say on the topic of Devildom succession politics, hmm?” your professor asked, his bright red eyes—eyes the color of fresh blood, with slit pupils to match—trained on you. You mentally scrambled to recover, seizing upon the first thing you could think of…the breakdown of succession in Late New Kingdom Egypt, apparently. As you began to ramble off facts for your life, you felt a particular set of eyes stare at you from the row in front; a shock of white hair at the edge of your vision confirmed it was Solomon.

The bell rang then, just as you wrapped up your three-point argument for why the Devildom should _not_ adopt a law you saw scribbled on one end of the blackboard behind the professor. Your teacher sighed. “I should have known by now.” He gave you a wry smile, which you chose to believe was a sign of your success at bullshitting. “Very interesting perspective as always, though perhaps a bit too verbose, considering the law was abolished two centuries ago.” You squinted at the blackboard; shit. The repeal of the law was written in smaller handwriting below the title. Woops. But at least the old demon didn’t seem offended or upset, as he waved you out of the class without punishment.

Solomon’s eyes, though, never left you once as you packed your bag and left; you could feel the weight of his gaze, and it was all you could do to avoid his eyes as you scurried away.

Halfway down an empty hallway, which you were certain was _not_ in the direction of your next class, you took a deep breath and tried to process your revelation at last: In your dream, you had been married to _Solomon_.


End file.
